A wonderer and a wanderer.

Spoons

I had icecream the other day. And the type that you buy from a shop over a counter and you um and ah… and then chose the flavour etc. And then these days pretty much every type of these stores has things you can sprinkle in or mash in. I did not have any of these. It always reminds me of when I worked in an ice cream store. Memories, it was my first job and I wore a bright orange shirt. And most of the time jeans that had ice-cream wipes on the sides of them. Thinking about that makes me feel a little sick.

So I had icecream, as did Cal. We were quite excited about our flavours as we walked home. We also discovered we liked the other’s flavour better. As I walked along I dropped my spoon, and naturally I was teased for being a bit of a goof. Cal offered me his spoon to borrow, so I took the nice offer and several seconds later, accidentally dropped his spoon too. The light teasing I was given just prior disappeared. In its place was just simple “I am pissed off you dropped my spoon also” kind of vibe. And hey fair enough, what a dickhead I was. The ice-cream just sat there in the cup as it began to melt quickly in the warm summer night, though I am way too impatient and was drinking mine from my cup. Yep, I raise my hand and say, I have no dignity. Poor Cal patiently waited until we got back to the apartment where he scooped the ice cream soup up. Spoons are useful.

Now, Murakami. I may have discovered one of my favourite writers, and yes you may say “hey doofus, you really are a tad slow, he was cool 10 years ago” but I found him in the right time and place. The best time to appreciate his writing and it can only get better.

Sometimes I wonder why my gut feels tight. Is it protecting itself?

I started a few of my jobs this week. They have been quite different and you learn new things in areas where you didn’t think you needed to learn. Like, helping with an AFL promotion has led me to talk to hundreds of Australians and their passion for AFL. And also random suburb names. I got told off by one old man named Norm for not being able to spell Melbourne suburb names. “I thought all Melbourne people knew how to spell their suburbs.” He was from the bush.